


Brooklyn Boys' Bagels (The Berry Wonderful Remix)

by Fluffypanda



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Bagels, Flirting, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 11:28:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9654908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluffypanda/pseuds/Fluffypanda
Summary: Someone visits Steve's bagel shop after it's closed for the night.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MiniRaven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiniRaven/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Bagel Shop of Hotness](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7980331) by [MiniRaven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiniRaven/pseuds/MiniRaven). 



> Full disclosure: This is the shortened version of the fic I had planned. Various things got in the way of me finishing it in time, so I settled for telling a much shorter story. I hope you enjoy it anyway.

Sprinkling the last of the crumbs in front of Amnesty, who cooed and pecked at them like it was Christmas, Steve heaved a sigh and hauled the chalkboard sign back into his air-conditioned shop. It was a tiny place; dominated by a serving counter, the only places to sit were a couple of stools plopped in front of one end of the counter. The walls were done over in murals of motorcycles and doves riding through the streets of Brooklyn, one of the birds had been painted over, giving it cocoa brown feathers just like those of the pigeon he’d been feeding outside. Moving the sign once would have been difficult, but Steve’s arms, though still wiry, had put on some muscle in the months since he opened the shop. Once through the door, he leaned the sign against the wall. His arms ached from the day’s effort as he cleaned up and started packing away leftover stock.

Bagels, he thought, would be a surefire hit in New York City. What he hadn’t counted on was the well-established competition. From chains to historic deli’s, there were endless options for bagels within a stone’s throw of his tiny shop, and it seemed everyone had already picked a favorite.

In other words, Brooklyn Boys’ Bagels was failing, hard. Steve had hoped to expand his selection and stock once he had a customer base to warrant it, but that simply wasn’t in the cards when he couldn’t sell most of his pitifully small stock. He didn’t have the money to hire anyone besides Sam, a graduate student who helped out in the mornings, not that he needed it with business so slow. Even getting enough money together to pay Sam in addition to the overhead proved to be a challenge.

The bell on the door rang, startling Steve as he bagged his unsold bagels. Coming in right past the “closed” sign on the door was a man in dark suit. With his expression hidden by his dark red aviator sunglasses, his chocolate brown hair carefully slicked back and his vaguely familiar van dyke styled within an inch of its life, the man seemed to be some sort of hot shot with more style than substance.

Steve strode over to counter and the hot shot’s swaggering step faltered; he froze halfway to Steve, perhaps realizing his mistake, but made no move to leave. Instead seconds later, he continued on and leaned against the counter like he had a secret to whisper to Steve.

Straining to keep his voice polite, Steve said, “Sir, the shop is closed for the night. Please come back another time.”

“Listen, I just want a bagel, blueberry if you’ve got it.” The man peered over his sunglasses at Steve beseechingly. “Do a guy a favor?”

Met with the most expressive brown eyes he’d ever seen, Steve’s heart melted, just a little bit. His mind was settled when he noticed that despite the fancy clothes, the man looked like he hadn’t a good meal in ages and a decent night’s sleep in just as long.

“Fine, but next time come before I start closing up,” Steve said, picking out the plumpest blueberry bagel he could find. “Do you want this toasted?”

“That’d be lovely, sweetheart.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Cream cheese?”

“Depends, do I get to lick it off?” the man said in a tone of voice that made it abundantly clear he wasn’t talking about the bagel.

Steve’s cheeks flamed. He didn’t quite slam the bagel and container of cream cheese on the counter, but he wasn’t exactly gentle with it either. “Here’s your bagel, sir. That’ll be $2.75.”

“Sorry. I—uh, I misread the situation. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” The man said, his shoulders raised and looking down at the counter, he peeked up at Steve every couple of words.

“It’s nothing. Can I get you anything else?”

“Your name?”

Steve hesitated, unsure if the man was pulling his leg again, but finally he replied, “Steve.”

“Steve.” The man repeated as he dropped some cash on the counter along with a business card with a handwritten phone number on it.

The man was out the door before Steve even realized that he’d left more than ten times the amount needed to pay for the food. The name on the business card read: Tony Stark.

 

Later that night, Steve trudged up the stairs to his tiny apartment on the second floor. It was in Queens of all places, not where Steve had seen himself ending up, but better than Jersey in any case. He pushed open the creaky door into his living room, dropped his keys on the table near the door, and hung up his coat. Passing the area where the living room flowed into the kitchen, Steve made his way to his bedroom and beyond, to the bathroom nestled against it.

The apartment was equipped with a full bath, a blessing on a day like that one when Steve, weary from his long hours and hard work, wanted nothing more than to sink into the bathtub. Bucky probably would have teased him about it, but he wasn’t around to sprinkle glitter in his bath salts now.

Steve shed the last of his clothes and sank into the invitingly steamy tub. Even as short as he was, his knees stuck slightly out of the lavender-scented water. Cupping his hands, he poured water over them and looked back on his day.

As always, it started before dawn, baking the bagels he’d sell for the day. By the time Sam’s shift started, the second batch was ready to come out of the oven and the shop doors needed opening. All the usual customers had shown up, eager to get their breakfast. Only a few of new ones had come in and, of those, only half of them had actually bought something.

Really, the only difference between this day and every other one was Tony Stark. He’d come off as entitled and arrogant, and Steve was starting to suspect that he was also rich and famous. The name, just like his distinctive facial hair, seemed familiar and the card said that he was a CEO and Head of R&D at a company named after him. Under most circumstances, Steve probably would have written Tony off, but he sensed there was something he might just like beneath the glamor.

He might just call that number after all.


End file.
